


birds of a feather (flock together)

by icelandicc



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Floofrey, Fluff, Gen, Post-Game(s), molting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icelandicc/pseuds/icelandicc
Summary: “How am I supposed to calm down? We have a crisis on our hands here!”





	

**Author's Note:**

> the original idea of floofrey belongs to @[jeredu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeredu/pseuds/Jeredu) !!  
> check out all the flippin' adorable art she's done of him [here](http://jeredu.tumblr.com/tagged/floofrey) !!

“It isn’t too often we get a lightning seraph around here. Room for two?” The innkeeper smiled evenly at Sorey and Mikleo as they approached the counter.

“Yeah, I guess we were never really that prevalent in comparison to those afflicted with one of the Four.” Sorey rubbed the back of his head, coming up with several feathers in his hand. He stared hard at them for a moment, confused as to why they were coming out so easily, before shrugging and fashioning them in Mikleo’s ponytail. Mikleo swatted his hand away with a small sound of indignation, but ultimately left the feathers alone. He jerked his head towards the innkeeper with a pointed look at Sorey, who turned and cleared his throat apologetically.

“Room for one is fine.” Sorey smiled. Mikleo elbowed him in the side lightly.

“Cheapskate.”

“That’s not the only reason.” He winked in that awkwardly, _endearingly_ seductive way that only Sorey could make work. Mikleo had the decency to blush only because of the innkeeper’s very palpable presence. She just gave a small laugh and handed Sorey the room key. Sorey pushed the appropriate sum of gald across the counter in return.

“You’re awful,” Mikleo tugged a feather from behind Sorey’s ear affectionately, twirling it between his fingers as they headed down the hallway towards their room.

“And you love it.” Sorey retorted easily. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, after all, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Mikleo scoffed and shook his head.

“Sure, but you already knew that.” Sorey laughed and plucked the feather from Mikleo’s hand, tying it into his hair with the other three.

“If you keep that up, I’ll look like you soon.” Mikleo complained, doing nothing, however, to stop Sorey in his advances.

“What are you getting at?” Sorey looked like a kicked puppy.

“Oh stop pouting. I’m just insinuating that maybe I wouldn’t look as seemly with a head full of feathers as you do.” Sorey regained his radiant smile at the explanation.

“Because I’m sure that anyone looks ‘seemly’ with a bunch of feathers sticking out of their skull.” Sorey quipped with a raised eyebrow.

“Exactly. I’ll never figure out how you manage it.” Mikleo offered a grin.

The pair laughed their way to the empty room at the end of the hall, continuing to take coy jabs at each other as they went.

* * *

 

A shy gleam of morning light snaked through the curtains, landing on Sorey’s face and rousing him from sleep. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head, careful to avoid waking Mikleo. He blinked once, blearily, than twice, before turned to look at Mikleo and-

They were _everywhere_.

There was an absurd number of pale gold feathers littering his pillow, Mikleo’s pillow, _Mikleo_. One or two, he could handle. One or two, he was _used to_. But one or two _dozen_ was a little much. Too much.

“Mikleo, I think there’s something wrong with me!” Mikleo jerked out of sleep, earning a quick “sorry!” from Sorey, who felt bad for so thoroughly freaking out his friend.

“What in Maotelus’ name are you yelling about Sorey,” Mikleo murmured, voice croaky. Sorey stayed silent, until Mikleo finished rubbing the sleep from his eyes and saw the issue for himself.

“Oh.”

.   .   .

“Oh? _Oh_? That’s _it_?” Sorey clutched his head in his hands, quickly drawing them back when several more feathers floated down to the sheets, almost mockingly.

“Sorey _calm_ down,” Mikleo grabbed his arm reassuringly.

“How am I supposed to calm down? We have a crisis on our hands here!” Sorey brushed a feather off the back of Mikleo’s hand irritably.

“Just _trust me_.” Sorey took a deep breath, still a little annoyed that Mikleo obviously didn’t grasp the severity of the situation.

“Sorey, what do Elysalarks do before breeding season?” Sorey tilted his head questioningly.

“Huh?” Mikleo waited calmly for an answer.

“Um, well, they…” his face lit up as realization hit him. “Molt! They molt!”

“ _Exactly._ ” Mikleo felt his lips pulling up into a smile at the expression Sorey was wearing. “It isn’t a _crisis._ You’re getting your breeding season plumage.”

Sorey reached behind his head, biting his lip and plucking out a small feather. It was mottled pale brown and amber. Sorey waved it in Mikleo’s face.

“So are you attracted to me yet?” Mikleo raised an eyebrow.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s how it works.” He paused. “That’s not to say that I’m not, though.” Sorey grinned lopsidedly.

“I knew it!” Mikleo batted the feather away teasingly.

There was a comfortable silence; Sorey and Mikleo in the quiet, early morning light and feathers all around them. And in that moment something in Mikleo’s heart clenched; Sorey, soaked in sunlight and shining for all the world like the sun itself, was _so utterly-_

“ _-beautiful_.” Sorey looked up in surprise.  “You’re beautiful.” He flushed pink, but regained his composure.

 “Not as beautiful as you.” Sorey shot back smoothly, going crossed-eyed suddenly when a feather slid down from his forehead onto his nose. Mikleo laughed as Sorey shook his head like a dog to dislodge it.

“You know, we should probably clean these up.”


End file.
